


look at me, i’m almost there

by OuiOuiMonAmis



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 16:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15489576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OuiOuiMonAmis/pseuds/OuiOuiMonAmis
Summary: Grantaire can’t feel anything. The world is silent. All he can see is the joyful face of Gavroche, frozen in time as the bullet rips through his chest.(inspired by the les mis 2018 national tour)





	look at me, i’m almost there

Screaming. 

That was the first thing Grantaire recognized once the smoke settled. The next was a small body curled up in his arms, losing heat everywhere but the places Grantaire’s arms and body touched it. He knew who it was, but couldn’t bring himself to look at the face. 

The next thing Grantaire recognized was a hand on his shoulder and a body close behind him, steady and strong, while a voice called out orders to the rest of the barricade. Turning his head ever so slightly, he saw a flash of bright red, and that was as enough to make him crumple to the ground. The shouting above him stopped as the speaker dropped with him, breaking his fall. 

The next thing Grantaire felt were white hot tears, racing down his cheeks. He couldn’t remember if he had been crying for a while or if he had just started, but whatever the case was, they were painful— each tear felt like a knife slowing dragging down his cheek.

He should have done better. He should have forbidden Gavroche from coming to the barricade. Should have locked him in the storage closet in the Musain. Should have found him a better home than his own dirty studio. 

He should have been the one gathering the ammunition. 

Now one of the few people he loved was dead in his arms. It was his fault. His fault. His——

“...I’m so sorry, R,” a voice cut through his internal dialogue, making his brain come screeching to a halt, “this isn’t your fault. It’s mine.”

No. Grantaire whipped his head around to the person he forgot existed, and his mind is echoingly quiet for a minute before the weight of the words reaches him. With a halting breath, he murmured out, just loud enough for the other man to hear him, “it’s not your fault, Apollo. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have let him come here.”

“R, you know he would have found a way here no matter what you did. I should never have given him a chance to join us,” Enjolras responded, “I shouldn’t have let him sit in on meetings. We should have kept the cause from him. He didn’t deserve this.”

Grantaire let the phrase hang in the air for a moment before saying, “maybe both of us are at fault. And so’s Thénardier for kicking him out. And especially the soldier sadistic enough to shoot a child.”

Enjolras nodded his agreement, finally looking at Gavroche’s face. With a slightly shaky hand, he reached over to close the eyes of the boy. With a bob of Graintaire’s head, he gestured over Combferre to take Gavroche away, turning his eyes to give Grantaire a moment to say goodbye. 

The second Gavroche is gone, Grantaire wiped at his face with his sleeve, smearing mud all over it. With a look up to Enjolras, and a flame in his eyes, he whispered, “let’s murder the bastard that did this.”

And with that, Enjolras rose to his feet, offering his hand to assist Grantaire. The latter gave the hand a peculiar look, but quickly grasped it, pulling himself upwards. Bossuet tossed the two men loaded pistols, which they each grabbed easily out of the air with opposite arms. Noticing this, Enjolras looked down to where their hands were still firmly grasped together, and back up to Grantaire’s open face. 

With slightly flushed cheeks, Grantaire quietly asked: “do you permit it?”

In response, Enjolras raised their joined hands to his lips, pressing a firm kiss onto the other man’s thumb. “Let’s kill the man that did this.”

And with that, the two men scaled the barricade, never once letting go of one another. Even when they fell.

**Author's Note:**

> the scene in the tour was so beautiful i had to expand on it. i made myself emo.


End file.
